


Every Pane Of Glass That Your Pebbles Tap Negates The Pains I Went Through To Ignore You

by Science_Cat



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Man I suck at tagging so bad, Pete's in college, Peterick, That's all the tags you're getting, fuck it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 10:34:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4873495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Science_Cat/pseuds/Science_Cat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Okay, wow, tough love,” Pete says through a mouthful of carpet. “What?! What is so important that you had to break into my room on a school night to tell me, Pete? What?! Where the hell did you even come from!?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Pane Of Glass That Your Pebbles Tap Negates The Pains I Went Through To Ignore You

**Author's Note:**

> Another slightly modified song line title. This was based on a cute ass comic that for the life of me, I cannot find again, but kudos to the artist for inspiration. I would also like to apologize for the "What a catch, Donnie" reference in advance. This one's pretty fucking cheesy as well, but I dialed it down from the original. What can I say, I enjoy cheesiness and fluff. I suck ass at writing angst and smut anyway. As always unbeta'd, please excuse any errors. I hope it's enjoyable!

Clink. Clink. Clink. Patrick’s mind is fuzzy, the last remnants of a dream being chased away by the realization that he has been awoken. With a mental sigh, he allowed his brain to focus and cautiously open one eye. His room is covered with a layer of dim darkness, the sparse light coming from the moonlight flooding in through his window and the dim red light from the digital alarm clock on his nightstand. He has to give his eyes a minute to adjust. Clink. Clink. Clink. There was that damned sound again. He doesn’t know how long it’s been there, but his mind has registered it and now he can’t ignore it. Patrick pulls the duvet up over his head to somehow try to keep it out. It's not going to work, his brain is awake now and already worrying about it. He glances at the alarm clock that reads 12:30. Shit, no, he has to go back to sleep, it was a school night, and he had a test first thing in the morning. Normally, he wouldn’t have cared as much, but it was important, and he wasn’t up for feeling shitty more than usual in the morning. He wrestled with the sheets back and forth, trying to find comfort on either side. A lingering haze of sleep sat somewhere at the back of his mind but was too far away to reach, too focused on the noise coming from outside. Patrick tried to ignore it, he really did. But every few minutes he could hear it. Clink. Clink. Clink. 

Feeling ever so disgruntled with his sleep, Patrick groaned. That’s when the noise disappeared. Halle-fucking-lujah. He doesn’t know where it went or what it was, but he couldn’t care. He could actually have a try at sleeping again. Just when his mind began to drift off into the nothingness, he bolted awake to a thunk. He could hear a faint voice outside, coming closer. Wait, is someone climbing his window? Should he do something about it, should he tell his mom, call the cops? Then he could hear it, a faint pssst. He could tell that it was a man’s voice, but he couldn’t tell who it was. Panic was starting to rise in his chest. He heard it again but, it was much louder now. “Oh my God, Patrick wake up.” His panic quickly subsided, but anger replaced it. The voice was muffled through the closed window, but he knew who it was, and he was going to kill him. A million thoughts were run through his head. He’s decided, that he’s going to pretend to be still asleep. “Hey, I know you’re awake in there!” He glances over his shoulder for a millisecond. And sure enough, there was Pete motherfucking Wentz hanging on a ladder outside his window, in the middle of the night. Isn’t he supposed to be in college now? What the Hell does he think he’s doing? “Trick’, I need to tell you something, it is so important, seriously.” He replies with a loud mph; Patrick hopes he heard him and takes it as a signal to go away. “Seriously. Hey, is this unlocked?” Patrick can hear the window shift around before he sees an arm pushing it up. He lets out an annoyed sigh. Honestly, he doesn’t know how he deals with Pete’s shenanigans sometimes. You’d think Pete would be more mature, given that he’s in college and is five years older than Patrick, but no. Then again, he wouldn’t be Pete Wentz without his immaturity and crazy antics, now would he? Still, that doesn’t excuse him from Patrick being angry at him. Pete stumbles through the window and lands on Patrick, partially knocking the air out of him. He twists around, with the weight of Pete on top of him. Pete now in his lap. “Surprise!” he ‘whispers’ loudly and raises his arms. He smiles his signature, toothy Pete Wentz smile. Goddamn it, he can feel his face flushing scarlet. His emotions are mixed up, as much as he’s missed Pete, he really fucking hates him right now. Pete grabs him by the shoulders, half-hugging him. “Did you miss me, Pattycakes?” he squeezes. Patrick’s stomach does a flip. Pete and his goddamn nicknames. His face feels like it’s burning up. “Aw, you’re so cute when you blush! Hell, anything you do is cute, you’re my lunchbox!” he says. He pushes Pete off of him, getting tangled in the sheets in the process. The end result of Pete landing with a thud on the ground, his ass in the air. Shit that was loud, he prays to God his mom didn’t hear anything. How would he explain Pete in his room in the middle of the night out of nowhere? “Okay, wow, tough love,” Pete says through a mouthful of carpet. “What?! What is so important that you had to break into my room on a school night to tell me, Pete? What?! Where the hell did you even come from!?” he huffs, it’s difficult not to shout. Pete gets up and dusts himself off. “Oh shit... Yeah I-I forgot, school night...” He scratches the back of his head, muttering. Pete looks at him like a kicked puppy. Pete was not going to pull this shit this time. No way, Patrick was not going to feel guilty about this. “Well?!” he asks, still steaming with anger. “This was supposed to be a surprise; they gave me a vacation from the college. I was gonna come see you first; my mom doesn’t even know I’m here. Cause it’s been too long, and I wanted to see my Pattycakes. I figured you’d still be awake since I thought it was the weekend. Then I came over here and I started tossing pebbles at your window, hoping to catch your attention, thinking you’d dozed off or something, now that I actually think about it, I have no clue what I was thinking. I should’ve stopped at the Pebble thing, I mean- you’re lights were off and I just- I don’t know- I just really wanted to see you again, I wasn’t thinking-” Pete rambles, and could ramble for hours but Patrick cuts him off. “Shut up,” he says and gets up and hugs Pete tightly. It shuts Pete up immediately, and he gratefully returns the embrace back. He buries his head into Pete’s shoulder. Pete’s head rests on top of his, breathing deeply into Patrick’s tousled, thin hair. “God, you’re an idiot,” He says muffled by Pete’s hoodie. His anger is long faded. The only thing he feels now is how much he’s missed Pete. Only he would do something stupid like this for Patrick. Pete has always felt like home, and he still does. Although, he’s been away for too long and Patrick’s notice some changes. For instance, Pete’s gained some muscle mass, he has a light stubble, he carries a subtle smell of coffee with him now. He sighs into Pete’s shoulder.

How come Pete cares so much about him? Patrick’s just some loser of a fifteen-year-old. With nothing but troubled thoughts and self-esteem to match. They just linger there in each other’s arms. At that moment, Patrick begins to realize something. Something deep in his gut. A very strange change, quite uncomfortable now. He quickly pulls away from Pete’s embrace. Pete looks at him with worry in his dark eyes. “Are you okay?” he asks. “Yeah, I'm all right.” Patrick looks down. He could still feel Pete’s gaze on him. “You’ve changed so much.” Pete whispers. Patrick looks up, to find Pete staring at him. His eyes reflective of a feeling Patrick can’t quite detect. The feeling from earlier resurfaced in Patrick’s stomach. It was like butterflies, but the butterflies were on fire. This causing Patrick’s face to blush furiously. With sudden realization, now he’s staring at Pete. He quickly shifts his gaze elsewhere, and carries on the conversation, hoping to rid the room of awkward and strange tension. “I’m still kinda mad at you, you know,” he says. “Well, you should be,” Pete says. “But, you know you can’t stay mad at me, Pattycakes,” he says, jokingly. Patrick says nothing at that but, but just raises an eyebrow. “Now that you’re here, you can’t stay here. I have school in the morning, which is going to suck because you just happened to be here on the wrong day. And what’s my mom going to think, honestly?” he says. “Yeah, I know. Sorry again, I’ll never not feel bad about this. I just -like I said- I don’t know. I’ll just drive home, mom wouldn’t mind. We can hang out and catch up tomorrow, it is Friday, so yeah. I mean if you want to...” Pete murmurs and trails off. “Why the Hell wouldn’t I?” he says. Patrick looks at him with an are-you-fucking-serious-face? “Alright, sorry, uh sleep tight, ‘Rickster.” He quickly hugs Patrick again and makes his way back towards the window. He carefully starts to back through the window. Patrick pokes his head through the window, watching Pete slowly climb down the ladder. He waves him goodbye. Pete’s half-way across his yard when he remembers, what the Hell was he going to tell him that was so important that he had to wake Patrick up in the first place!? Pete’s already long gone. He grabs for his phone at the nightstand.

Hey, what were you going to tell me that was so important that you had to wake me in the first place? 

It takes a minute or two for Pete to reply.

That I love you.

Patrick’s heart stops. Somehow he knows it’s not the nonchalant I love you that Pete always says. It means more, after tonight, it has too. Or is that just what he wants? In a moment, he remembers Pete’s gaze, the one he couldn’t quite place. He realizes that it was the look of longing. The reason he couldn’t place it was because no one had ever looked at him in that way. Sure, his mom loved him, but that was motherly love. This was cliche romantic movie type love. Patrick’s thoughts and emotions are thrown around everywhere. After what seems like an eternity, he’s left with his thoughts as they eat away at him. Does he have feelings for Pete Wentz? He can’t, there’s so much wrong with that. Patrick was supposed to be straight, that's what he told himself, anyway. Although, he knew Pete swung both ways. Pete was way out of his league. Pete was older than Patrick by five years, and that kind of relationship would be considered illegal. Relationship!? What was he thinking? He was getting far too ahead of himself. Patrick was struck with indecision. Should he reply to Pete? He wasn't sure. Conveying this kind of stuff over text wasn’t ideal. Frowning slightly, his finger hovering over the enter button. Should he? He finally replies. The feeling of a mixture of regret, uncertainty, and confusion enter his body. 

I love you too.

God knows Patrick’s never going to sleep again, at least not for tonight. He feels a kind of warmth inside of him. He lies there in the fumble of sheets. He lies there and stares at the dim ceiling. He lies there and thinks of Pete, himself, and if any of this has any meaning to it. The future can be so suffocating, and Patrick hates it. There he was, a confused, sexually frustrated mess. He wanted to scream, more than anything. Even if it’s tomorrow or 5 years from now, the future is slowly suffocating him none the less. As he lies there, it felt like time moved as slowly as possible. How long has it been since Pete left? Patrick looks at the clock, and it has only been fifteen minutes. It didn’t really matter anymore. How could it be that he hadn't seen Pete's love for what it was before? Patrick kept running through questions again and again. Why him? He wondered how long had Pete loved him, how long he had waited. He would have to learn to be patient, and he could for Pete. He would, or he would die trying.


End file.
